


No Such Thing

by Twisted_Mind



Series: Irredeemable Filth: The Steter Collection [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fantasy Fulfillment, Knotting, M/M, POV Peter Hale, Praise Kink, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: Stiles’s eyes are glittering and the scent of anxiety has faded, leaving nothing but hope and thick arousal behind. It makes Peter want to sink his teeth in. “So you—you’d be okay with it?” 

  He wants to roll his eyes. Wants to snap that he wouldn’t have bought the damn thing if he wasn’t perfectly comfortable with the thought of using it. Instead, he grips Stiles’s ass and grinds the hard line of his cock against the boy’s thigh. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “You tell me.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DenaCeleste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenaCeleste/gifts).



> Happy Solstice, Dena! Love you lots!

 

“Go on, open it,” he purrs. He can’t wait to hear the way his boy’s heart will stutter when Stiles sees what he bought.

“Kinda hard to do with you plastered to me like a furry barnacle, but sure.” Despite the snarking, Stiles makes no move to dislodge him.

Peter hooks his chin over his boy’s shoulder and watches slender fingers tremble in excitement as they fumble with the shiny paper. When the gift is free from the wrapping, Stiles’s heart skips a beat before suddenly starting to pound. Mouthing at his neck, Peter smells strong notes of arousal, but it’s undercut with anxiety and uncertainty.

“What is this?”

Peter lets one hand drift down from his boy’s waist to cup him through his pants. “I thought it was rather obvious.”

Stiles snorts. “Yeah, okay, maybe it is. Which makes the real question _why_ did you buy this and decide to present it to me as a gift?”

He scrapes his teeth down Stiles’s neck in stinging lines. “Your poker face is excellent, darling, but you couldn’t mask the scent of disappointment when I told you there’s no such thing as knotting.” He sucks lightly, worrying the thin skin between his teeth. Nothing that will mark. Not yet. “You know I don’t like denying you things you want.”

Stiles snorts. “That’s a lie. You love edging me almost as much as you love when I ride you.”

He squeezes the boy’s cock in warning. “If you didn’t smell like desperation and absolute surrender when I edged you, I wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much. But we both know you enjoy it, too. Especially the part where I make you come so hard you cry.” Peter sighs before letting go, turning Stiles to face him. “The point, darling, is that you want me to be able to knot you. With that, I can.”

Stiles’s eyes are glittering and the scent of anxiety has faded, leaving nothing but hope and thick arousal behind. It makes Peter want to sink his teeth in. “So you—you’d be okay with it?”

He wants to roll his eyes. Wants to snap that he wouldn’t have bought the damn thing if he wasn’t perfectly comfortable with the thought of using it. Instead, he grips Stiles’s ass and grinds the hard line of his cock against the boy’s thigh. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “You tell me.”

Stiles moans. “Yeah? Wanna pin me on your knot?”

He can’t stop the low rumble from rolling up his chest and out his mouth. “Can’t wait to have you squirming under me, milking my knot because you’re gagging for me to fill you up.”

Stiles struggles out of his grip to start yanking his clothes off. “Want that—want it so bad, Daddy.”

He sheds his Henley and jeans, eyes riveted to his shaking boy. “I know you do, baby. You’ve wanted to be Daddy’s little knotslut for a long time. Over the bed, now.”

At that, Stiles hesitates. “O-over?”

Peter stalks over, crowding him until he’s bent at the waist, face pressed into the comforter. “Knots are for breeding. If you want my knot, you’re going to bend over and let me mount you.”

Stiles moans. “Yeah, yeah. Want it, Daddy.”

“You’ll get it,” he promises. “You just need to be patient, first.”

Peter slicks his fingers and gets right to it. Stiles is so needy he arches back when Peter starts him off with two. Peter’s more concerned with being thorough than being gentle, but he still has to plant his free hand on Stiles’s back when the boy tries to buck and get more than he’s being given.

“Alright, up,” he growls. As much as he likes the sight of his boy riding his fingers, he wants to break in their new toy a hell of a lot more.

“Daddy?”

“Hands and knees on the bed.” When Stiles scrambles to obey, he purrs, “That’s my good boy.”

He kneels on the bed, and guides those plush lips to his cock. “I want you to focus on getting me nice and wet while I open you up for my knot, okay baby?” Stiles slurps and moans around his cock. “Yeah, just like that.”

It goes faster that way, with Stiles distracted. Of course, it’s a challenge to prepare him rather than simply chase the soft heat of his mouth, never mind that Peter isn’t a fan of this angle. He likes to watch his baby’s greedy body suck his fingers inside. Still, he’s careful as he works tight muscles loose. His cock is thick on its own, never mind the added girth of the cocksheath and knot.

Stiles whines, complaining, when Peter starts screwing a fourth finger inside. He bucks his hips, nudging the tip of his dick against his boy’s throat. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Stiles squirms, unsure whether he wants to rock forward to deepthroat his Daddy’s cock, or backwards onto his Daddy’s fingers. He sucks hard, and Peter palms the back of his head. He’s so pretty like this, confused and lust-drunk.

Peter slides his fingers free, and pulls Stiles off his cock. “Alright, baby. Let me get ready, and then I’ll give you what you need.”

Stiles whines, his eyes glittering and face flushed. Peter drops a kiss on his swollen lips before moving away. He’s careful rolling the cocksheath on, glad he’d had the foresight to make his baby suck him first. It makes getting it on easier. In the few minutes it takes him to get into position behind Stiles, the scent of _want_ has only grown stronger.

Peter is suddenly doubly glad he bought the thing. Anything that makes Stiles so sweetly pliant, that makes him smell of this much desperate arousal, is more than worth it. He slicks the outside of the sheath, luxuriating in the way it makes the textured interior ripple around him.

“Daddy, _please_.”

Stiles’s whine breaks him out of his lazy exploration. “Hush, baby, I’ve got you.”

The tapered tip sinks inside easily, and he pushes slowly. Stiles pants as he’s stretched wide, but Peter knows better than to think it’s just the extra girth that’s making the boy’s heart pound. “’s big, Daddy.”

He smirks, rocking his hips a little. “It’ll get bigger.”

Stiles bucks back against the grip Peter has on his hips, the edge of the knot knocking against his rim. “Don’t—dunno if I can take it.”

Peter puts some force behind his first thrust. If the little shit wants to play to his instincts that badly—“Oh no, baby. You don’t get to back out now. Not after Daddy warned you that this isn’t a game. You wanted to be pushed down and mounted, bred like a bitch on my knot. Now you’ve got it, and you’re going to take it like the good babyslut we both know you are. Isn’t that right?”

Stiles’s breaths are tight, the back of his neck flushed red, but his moaned, “ _Yes_ ,” is pretty unambiguous.

Part of Peter wants to drag it out. Fuck him nice and slow, tease him with the knot until he’s crying and on the verge of coming. But there’ll be time for that later. Right now, he has something else in mind. Because if he’s reading Stiles correctly—who couldn’t be subtle if his life depended on it—then baby boy doesn’t want teasing and slow. No, he’s after something darker.

So Peter snaps his hips hard—not as hard as he knows Stiles can take, but hard enough to tease at forcing the knot inside with every thrust. It feels amazing even through the silicone, and the hitchy gasps from his boy are so sweet that he takes a few more thrusts to savour them. But when the scent of need grows too strong to be ignored, he lets go of Stiles’s hips to dig his thumbs into the plush ass and pull the rim wide. Wide enough to accept the knot.

Peter rolls forward, popping it inside, and Stiles _wails_. It’s not a sound he’s ever made before, and Peter is already plotting how to make it happen again. He ruts, quick little movements that force the knot to roll over his baby’s prostate. Stiles whines every time he does, a near-constant chorus that make Peter viciously proud of himself.

“Such a sweet little cunt,” he growls. Stiles’s heart stutters and then _sprints_ , his cock weeping heavily enough that Peter could smell it with a human’s senses. “Taking my knot so well. Gonna fill you up, baby, breed you right.”

“Da- _ah_ -addy,” Stiles sobs brokenly.

Peter drops his voice into a purr. Into something so quiet his baby will have to strain to hear. “Gonna knot you again and again until it takes, until you’re gaping and desperate like a good little knot-slut.” Peter licks at the sweat beading between Stiles’s shoulders. “You’ll bend over for it anytime I want, you’ll need it so bad.”

Stiles gasps as he streaks the comforter, coming untouched. It only takes a few more stuttered thrusts into the vice-grip of his clenching body before Peter follows him.

 _Oh yes_ , Peter thinks, panting against his boy’s hairline, _that was money unquestionably well-spent_.


End file.
